


Friends of Ours

by misslucyfierce



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BDSM, F/M, Multi, Organized Crime, Universe Alteration
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-01
Updated: 2015-10-14
Packaged: 2018-03-04 16:18:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 11,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3074210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misslucyfierce/pseuds/misslucyfierce
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You know, we always called each other good fellas. Like you said to, uh, somebody, "You're gonna like this guy. He's all right. He's a good fella. He's one of us." You understand? We were good fellas. Wiseguys." - Goodfellas </p><p>The Death Eaters crime family, controlled ruthlessly by the Malfoy family, have been contacted by another wizarding crime family, the Ryans, with a proposition that will connect the two families in an effort to take over the wizarding crime world and weed out Dolohov once and for all.</p><p>These characters + their wonderful personalities are property of JK Rowling. The story, however, is mine. When and if quotes are borrowed, the sources will be cited accordingly. This story takes place post-Hogwarts in a Voldermort free time; however the Death Eaters are an organized crime family. The characters will maintain their true personalities; however, I will alter their relationships with each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

“Draco. Please be reasonable.” Narcissa’s voice had a pleading edge, revealing more emotion than she had intended.

 

“You have no true choice, Draco. When the family requests, you act. That’s a simple notion. There is no further discussion.” Lucius’s hand thumped the table - nonverbal emotion had always been one of his strong suites.

 

“No further discussion? A marriage to some Irish cow warrants a discussion!” His voice held more emotion than he cared to revealed. “I am not a child anymore. I do the family’s bidding without question - enforce, beat, maim, steal - I warrant a discussion.” Draco’s second statement showed more control of his emotions.

 

Narcissa’s eyes fell to her husband - a mother’s pleading glance for a father to forget the cloudy lines of business and family. Her mouth opened, ready to make a plea for her son. She hadn’t been quick enough.

 

“You do the family’s bidding, because I say so. This,” His hands gestured wildly, “is because of me. You are here, because of me - literally and figuratively, Draco. This marriage is happening. Why, you ask yourself, because I say so. This marriage means more opportunity for both families - particularly ours. We have to expand our interests. Dolohov and his bloody family have been single handedly controlling the egg trade. I will not let this all go to hell. You are marrying this, as you say, Irish cow if I have to crucio you myself to altar. That is your warranted discussion.” Lucius spat out the words - his eyes never leaving Draco’s gaze. Both held their ground - neither intimidated by the other. “You are meeting her tomorrow at 9 AM. Don’t be late, Draco. I warn you. I will not accept another outburst without consequence. Good night.” Lucius apparated without warning.

 

“You have to understand he has his reasons. He does this for you. This is for you.” Narcissa’s voice was soft, almost mothering. “He asks for much, and gives little. Your duty is to your family, to your position. You have no choice, Draco.” Her gaze bored into him - echoing the same sentiment his father shared.

 

Draco snorted in disgust, apparating without a goodbye.

 

\----

Draco stared at the sleeping frame beneath him. After leaving his father’s house, he found a bar, got raging drunk, and brought home a nameless witch - his typical pattern of coping. “Hey. You. It’s time to go.” He grabbed the pillow from under her head, her skull bouncing against the mattress.  

 

“Hey, that’s not how I envisioned a wake up call.” The brunette mumbled into her arm, still seeking sleep. Draco was losing his patience - had he not passed out from the copious amounts of fire whiskey, she would have been sent home by floo hours ago.

 

“Did you not bloody hear me? Get up. Get out. Good bye.” Draco felt anger rise as he grabbed her roughly by the arm, lifting her naked body out of his bed. The sheets would need to change and laundered - he made a mental note for his house elf. “Hey, don’t manhandle me! Who do you think you are?” Her nails dug into his hand, clawing for his release.

 

“I tried to be polite, but you can’t follow directions. It’s time for you to leave, it’s been time for you to leave.” Draco was scooping up her belongings, shoving articles of clothing into her hands as he led her to the living room. Somewhere between the hall and the fireplace, the brunette had managed to get some form of dressed despite Draco’s iron-clad hold on her upper arm.

 

“Here.” Draco shoved a handful of Floo powder in her hand. “I don’t care where you go, but you have to leave here. It’s been...fun.” He let go, shoving her closer to the fireplace. The brunette’s face twisted into a scowl as she mumbled an unknown address and disappeared into emerald green flames.

 

Draco rubbed the bridge of his nose - a habit born out of frustration. Shoving nameless women out of his bed was a tiresome task. ‘Luckily for you, your future wife will prevent that from happening’ his internal dialogue mused at him, reminding him of the meeting he had with his parents and Irish cow that he would, inevitably, be late for.

  
“Shit.” The clock rang 9 as Draco ran for a shower.


	2. 2

“I’m not sure where he could be. Draco is always prompt.” Narcissa waved a house elf over to offer their guests more tea. “Something must have come up. He would never miss this.” Her smile wasn’t reassuring.

 

Lucius paced, checking his watch incessantly. Draco was pushing the bonds of a father-son relationship with his reckless behavior. He was undoubtedly wrapped around some whore, half drunk - forgetting his duties to the family and to himself.

 

“We can always reschedule. We do have another engagement this afternoon. We can see you on our next trip stateside.” Fergus Ryan sat down his teacup and addressed Lucius.

 

“Good morning, everyone. Mother.” His lips hastily kissing her cheek.

Draco let his charm ooze from all his pores. His name gifted him with so many things, but his charm and confidence were the most lethal gifts it had bestowed upon him.

 

“Father.” His handshake was firm, his eye contact unflattering. “You must be Mrs. Ryan. Please pardon my lateness. My mother can attest that she raised me with much better etiquette.” He bowed low, kissing the middle age woman’s hand - flushing her skin. “Ah, Mr. Ryan. A pleasure. Once again, my apologies.” Firm handshake and a once over - Draco could see a man no older than his father, whose red hair reminded him of the Weasleys’.

 

“Call me Fergus. We are discussing me as your father-in-law. Please call me Fergus. This is my wife, Ena.” Fergus gestured towards the still flushed recipient of Draco’s polite kiss.

 

“Well, shall you meet her? Her being our daughter. We only have one, Draco. Please understand how much this means to both our families.” Fergus gestured towards Lucius, who was now sitting adjacent to Narcissa, watching his son charm their foreign visitors.

 

Draco swallowed hard. In an instant, he would be seeing his future wife. He could not protest, he could not decline - for the first time in a long time, he felt trapped, cornered by responsibility. He absentmindedly rub his left forearm, massaging the nonexistent pain away from the mark.

 

“Maeve, come here. “ Fergus’s voice boomed through the entryway, calling Draco’s future into view.

 

Draco’s breath caught in his chest as he watched a curvy frame walk towards to the group. Her hair, color of fire like her fathers, wound into curls that fell to her shoulders. Her lips were full - a pout was her resting expression. Draco felt himself staring, gaping at her and quickly looked away. The Irish cow turned out to be less cow like than he had imagined.

 

“Draco, this is our pride and joy, our bargaining chip.” The parents laughed, leaving Maeve clearly uncomfortable with the admission. “Draco, say hello.” Narcissa’s voice carried a hint of humor.

 

His eyes drank her in as he bowed and kissed her hand. “Maeve, it’s a pleasure. I’ve waited so long to meet you.” Her porcelain skin flushed, just like her mother’s, as she met Draco’s piercing gaze.

 

Somewhere between noticing her toned legs and her ample chest, house elves had made drinks for the group to toast.

“To two wizarding families coming together!” Lucius’s voice held mild enthusiasm as he drank the cool liquid. “Here! Here!” The others chorused. Draco’s eyes fell to Maeve who swirled the liquid in the tumbler, making no effort to drink. Her expression was vacant - her emerald eyes holding no clue to her emotions. This puzzled him. He was so easy at reading people, but here was a challenge - his future bride wasn’t allowing herself to be read.

 

“Well, shouldn’t we allow them to get acquainted? After all, a marriage can’t be made under the watchful eyes of parents.” Draco watched Narcissa pat her husband’s hand, a rare affectionate moment. Perhaps they were remembering their own arranged marriage. “Ena, let me show the house. I am sure Lucius wants to start the marriage contract with Fergus - ironing out specific details.” Draco marveled at his mother, the eternal hostess. 

The silence overpowered the room, weighing heavy against Draco’s chest. His charm and confidence only worked if there was a live body to react to it. Maeve sat motionless, still holding her toasting drink.

 

“Would you like something other than whiskey?” His days of etiquette training were not lost.

 

“No, thank you.” Her voice was sing song - carrying a clear Irish accent. It reminded of a schoolmate at Hogwarts, but Draco couldn’t place his name. Draco felt a surge of adrenaline - he had bedded women with a lot less than what Maeve just gave him, and he intended pounce.  “How long have you been in London? Have you had a chance to see much? I could show you around - make sure you feel a little more at ease.” His body was now facing her, his gaze seeking hers.

 

Maeve scowled and sighed. “If you think for a second that you can just sweet talk your way into my heart and my life, you’re wrong. My parents can force me to marry, but they can’t force me to like you.” Slamming her drink on the table was enough punctuation for Draco to receive the idea. Rising quickly, Maeve left without another word.

  
His body released a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding as he sank back into the chair. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Assistance with names for the Ryan family comes from www.babynamesofireland.com.


	3. Chapter 3

“Where’s the money, Amycus?” Draco’s voice was rough, his wand pointed towards a slumped figure. “We’ll - we’ll - we’ll get your money. Just give us time.” “Time? You want time? You’ve had more than enough!” His words were coated in venom as he raised his wand. “Crucio!”

 

Amycus’s body tensed, his limbs bent in pain - “Ahhh!” His screams echoed off the stone walls. Draco’s wrist held firm, holding Amycus’s writhing on the ground - his body flailing around, fighting an imaginary enemy. “Draco, someone’s coming.” Goyle’s voice broke Draco’s thought and the curse for a moment. “Let’s go.”

 

“If you don’t have what I want in two days, crucio will seem like heaven.” Draco roughly held Amycus’s face. He was so close he could smell the stench of firewhiskey radiating off his body. “Yes. Whatever you want.” His voice was soft, defeated by pain and embarrassment.

 

Draco nodded towards Goyle as they turned from Knockturn Alley, their duty done.

 

“I need to make contact with Crabbe. We need to track down the next shipment of potions from Russia. I can’t wait much more. Send an owl with the information.” Draco sheathed his wand and nodded towards his acquaintance. “I will be at the Manor should you need anything.” Without a goodbye, Draco was gone.

 

“Draco. You’re late.” Lucius’s voice was dry, his eyes still scanning the Daily Prophet. “Father, always a pleasure.” Draco’s voice was colored with sarcasm as he sank into the leather chair. “Lateness is a sign of lack of commitment, a lack of concern. It doesn’t go unnoticed.” Lucius’s eyes bored into his son, etching a bigger hole in his fragmented soul.

 

“Lack of commitment? I just spent thirty bloody minutes curicoing Amycus. Don’t talk to me about commitment, Father. Don’t.” His mannerisms were controlled, his voice even, his look lethal.

 

“Are we interrupting?” Barty Crouch Jr. entered the room, followed by a stream of Death Eaters. Their sleeves rolled up, revealing the common tattoo shared by all. A portly Fergus Ryan followed the group - his presence being met with cold stares and low whispers.

 

“No. It was nothing. Sit.” With a swift motion, a lengthy table and chairs appeared to accommodate the group. Lucius assumed the head of the table, Draco sitting at the right hand of his father and Fergus sitting at the left.

 

“Gentlemen, thank you for coming. Allow me to introduce our friend, Fergus Ryan. As you know, Ryan, in his own right, is a powerful man, and it is with my pleasure that we have decided to connect our families for the expansion of both our endeavors. Draco and Ryan’s daughter will be married in three months.” Lucius gestured to his son, who faked a smile and shrugged - his indifference pouring through.

 

“With the joining of our children, our business will become one. It is no secret that Ryan has had success with employing goblins in many capacities, as well as, managing many houses of female attention. These are the things we are going to bring here to London to make ourselves known as the only true wizarding family!” Lucius’s cane came down hard on the table - a mark of his true desire for domination.

 

A chorus of cheers spread through the room. The room was drunk on blood lust and greed. Everyone imagining the same goal, the same greatness.

 

“Avery, you will be working Ryan’s eldest son, Lorcan, to find suitable housing for our first witch house. Rodolphus, make contact with McNair and Rookwood - let them know just enough to keep the Ministry out of the way. I don’t need the Minister or any of his bloody advisors sticking their nose in.” Lucius laughed at the thought of Ministry interference - his pockets were deep and their greed was endless.

 

“We will make arrangements to meet with the head goblins from Gringotts to make arrangements for our influx of income. If we are going to work as hard as we do for our money, we need to make sure it’s protected. I will work with Ryan myself to ensure that our new founded relationships benefit us.”

 

Lucius’s wand was swift as drinks were poured for each Death Eater. “Gentlemen, we have always been successful, but now our names will forever be remembered. Here’s to the joining of two great wizarding families and the world who will forever be changed!”

 

Glasses were raised, cheers were shouted, and the whiskey flowed - the men getting drunk with power and greed, plotting and planning their future success.

 

No one noticed Draco leave.

 

\---

 

The library had always been one of his favorites places. As a child, he loved it’s immense size and its many secret hiding places. As a teenager, he loved it for the contraband books that were not present at Hogwarts. Dark magic, sex, old wizarding history - all deemed inappropriate, but Draco gobbled up their words as if he were starving. Now, as an adult, he loved it for the quietness it afforded him from his loud thoughts.

 

His eyes fell over the vast grounds of his parents’ house. The garden lights twinkling in the twilight of the sky. He felt himself smile at the memory of hide and seek at midnight when he as a child. It felt like ages since he had played a game that didn’t involve someone’s death or money.

 

“Oh, I didn’t know anyone was in here. I’m sorry.” Her voice was soft. “I’ve been coming in here all week and it’s always been me. I’ll come back.” He heard her feet shuffle back towards the door.

 

“No, it’s all right. You aren’t disturbing me.” Draco turned to meet her gaze - her eyes wide at the realization that she wasn’t talking to a stranger. “It’s quite a large place. I’m sure we both can be in here.” His smile was worth a million dollars, and by the flush on her cheeks, he knew it was money well spent.

 

“It’s you.” Maeve’s voice was flat, attempting to mask the feelings her body was betraying her with. “I’ve never seen you in the house this late.” Her observation was stout. Feeling more comfortable, she moved towards the center of the room, nearer to him.

 

“Late nights are common in my profession; however, some nights require less of a commitment.” Draco relaxed his body, walking towards her slowly. “Your profession? Gangsters have lots of professions. Which is your favorite?” Her green eyes never left his. Draco felt a wave of vulnerability wash over him. “Don’t play coy, Malfoy. I know what you are. Do you know what you are?”

 

The question left him speechless.

 


	4. Chapter 4

Quickly rebounding, his charm never failing, “I am surprised you’re talking to me. Our first meeting, you were less than charming.” Her bold attitude could easily be matched by his.

 

Maeve felt her cheeks flush with anger. “Don’t insult my intelligence! You were late to our engagement announcement. You were freshly showered, but your shirt with pink lipstick gave you away. I’m not stupid.” Her hand rubbed the lapel of his shirt, fingering the imaginary lipstick stain. “I’m a Ryan, Malfoy. I see everything.” Maeve stepped back, taking a  deep breath.

 

The corners of his lips twitched, attempting to reveal his humor. “The pink lipstick was from a woman who existed before I was engaged. I have nothing but honest intentions now that I am a taken man.” His exaggerated bow was marked by a sarcastic laugh from it’s recipient.

 

“You’re hilarious, Draco. You should have been a comedian instead.” She was quick witted and the way she said his name, without fear or disdain, made his heart beat a little quicker. The conversation lulled. The silence breeding through the large room, leaving two awkward bodies standing in an awkward dance.

 

“Why did you agree?” Her brash attitude replaced with timid words.

 

Draco turned his face towards her’s - her gaze holding steadfast to the carpeted floor. “Do you want the truth or a lie?”

 

At that request, her eyes glistened with fire again. Draco decided that he preferred her eyes lit with fire. “I want the truth, Draco. I want the truth every time. Don’t care about hurting my feelings. My family took care of those when I was younger.” She moved closer to him. “Tell me the truth all the time. I have to be able to trust you.” Draco sucked in a breath at her touch.

 

“I didn’t agree. I wasn’t given a choice.”

 

He watched for a flicker of emotion, a feeling, but her face gave none away. She held his gaze, emotionless as he. “Why did you agree?” He asked the same request of her.

 

“Do you want the the truth or a lie?”

 

Her fast paced response erupted laughter from Draco. “Are you laughing at me?” Her gaze was lethal. “I didn’t have a choice either.  I never have a choice. That’s the damn truth. I’m the only girl in a family full of domineering men. I never have choices. Maeve, wear this. Maeve, act like that. Maeve, don’t get here. Maeve, don’t go there alone. Maeve, you’re getting married. Maeve, you’re moving to London.” Her gestures were exaggerated, her tone mocking of her father’s and brother’s voices.

 

She froze, catching herself in the act of mockery - embarrassment flooding over her skin. “I’m sorry. My mother says my emotions get the best of me.” Her voice timid once again.

 

Draco was excellent at reading people - growing up in Lucius Malfoy’s house required the skill at an early age and he had the best teachers in the forms of thieving godfathers and famous murderers. Yet, he couldn’t read her very well. She flip-flopped between overly aggressive and shy - both versions of herself attempting to write more all over her. He found her intriguing, which was rare. He rarely found anyone, especially a woman, to be interesting; and then there was her. He found Maeve to be intoxicating.

 

“Draco.” Lucius’s voice boomed, breaking the moment into a thousand tiny pieces.

  
Without a word, Draco left her side. 


	5. Chapter 5

Gone without a word - that seemed typical of him. Though, to be honest, Maeve didn’t know what was typical of him. He was just as much a stranger as she was to him. The library seemed expansive and overwhelming without him. She eyed the door - she felt herself willing him back through the door to continue their honest, playful banter.

 

Sliding into a leather chair, she felt herself overwhelmed by the brevity of her situation. She had always known this day would come, lording over her childhood since the day she was brought into her parents’ home. The only girl to a wealthy, criminal wizarding family - her birth only dampened by the fact that her father couldn’t marry her off sooner to extend his greedy hands into other avenues that could only be afford with a true token of allegiance in the form of flesh and blood.

 

Her education was two fold - wizarding and wifely - her education at Beauxbatons had encouraged boh; grooming skilled wives disguised as wives. She knew the time would come, when her father would call on her and she would be given away in marriage. She felt a loose smile - her overwhelming sense of duty to her family engulfing her.

 

“Darling, are you in here?” Ena’s voice carried through the quiet room. “Oh, there are you. Come, darling, Narcissa and I want to finalize invitations. They’re already late as it is.” Ena didn’t wait for a response - her daughter had learn early to follow orders without being asked. Maeve sighed, her body slouching deep in the leather chair. Invitations were no concern of Maeve’s - she wished she didn’t have the occasion for invitations.

 

\---

 

Draco felt ale trickle down his neck - chugging the bitter liquid quickly. “Long day?” Ron’s voice was comical. “I saw your dad at the bank today - it looked very official.” Ron fanned his cards out, raising the game with two galleons. Draco snorted, “Yeah. I’m sure it was. Dad’s hoping to make some sort of goblin connection, using the Irish girl’s father as a lead in.” Draco raised another galleon.

 

“That seems ambitious.” Harry raised an eyebrow and another galleon. “Irish girl? When did she stop being a cow?” Goyle folded his cards over, taking a shot of fire whiskey.

 

“Have you had a chance to shag her yet? I’d an Irish girl once at school - Brenda, Brandi - I can’t remember, except that she was crazy. When I broke it off, she set my Quidditch uniform on fire. Crazy slag.” Ron shook his head in disgust at the memory. “Be careful, mate. I bet she’s looney. It’s the ginger hair.”

A chorus of laughter echoed through the room as the men gambled into the night.

 

\---

The room was bathed in a glow - rays of light dancing through the many plants in Narcissa’s conservatory, illuminating hundreds of colorful blossoms. The smell was pungent - an overpowering smell of earth and fragrance that made Draco’s stomach turn. A stomach full of alcohol and no sleep had left him with a splitting headache and a poor attitude.

 

“I can’t believe you were late! This is your wife. I don’t care what you do before or even after your marriage, but you need to learn to be on time!” Narcissa’s harsh whisper was annoying, at best. No amount of lecture could make him apologetic. “I thought she was going to burst into tears. Do you know what you’re asking her to give up? Show some damn decency.”

 

“What she’s giving up? Are you kidding me, Mother? What about what I am giving up?” He spat his words back. He would not be the prince charming to a damsel in distress. All were making sacrifices for this.

 

Narcissa fanned him away, her eyes softening - “You look gorgeous! Green is your color. Green was the color of Draco’s school house - I’m sure he will approve.”

 

“Yeah, it looks great.” Draco rubbed the bridge of his nose, keeping his eyes shut tight, trying to rub away the insurmountable tension that weighed on his body.

 

“You didn’t even look.”

 

Draco recognized the soft timbre of her voice instantly, and his gaze fell upon her. Her curves were evident in an emerald green fitted gown. The sweetheart neckline plunged achingly low, and Draco flushed thinking what she looked like beneath the dress. “You look great.” The same compliment repeated as his gaze held fast on her.

 

Maeve felt her confidence waiver, flushing at the intensity of his eyes. She felt naked and exposed despite being in a crowded room.

 

“Alright, let’s start natural. That helps everyone get comfortable.” The photographer waved over Draco and Maeve, positioning them in the center of the room. “Show me how much you love each other!” The photographer’s request earned awkward smiles and shuffling feet as Draco and Maeve stood beside each other.

 

“This is an arranged marriage. We need formal portraits.” Narcissa’s voice was business and cold. The room was warmed in sunlight, but ice crept through the room. “Sit.” Narcissa ushered Maeve into a chair. Years of proper training took over, and Maeve moved on auto pilot, positioning her body into perfect posture, slightly angled toward a standing Draco - a slight display of endearment. The photographer bent chins and folded hands as the shoot progressed - each pose slightly different, yet all remaining formal.

 

“Mother, can we have five minutes?” Draco’s request was for simple politeness as he ran to the loo. He felt his stomach wretch forward, emptying its contents into the bowl. His skin was clammy as he splashed cool water on his face. Somewhere between standing portrait ten and twenty two, he had lost the ability to stand without feeling whoozy.

 

“Oh. Excuse me. I didn’t realize you were waiting.” Draco’s eyes shifted from side to side as he opened the bathroom door, feeling uncomfortable with Maeve’s close presence.

 

“Here. It will make you feel better. I heard you get sick. I give this to my brothers all the time.” She thrust a glass filled with a thick white mixture that smelled aromatic. She smiled softly as she stepped back hesitantly.

  
“Thank you. I appreciate that.” Draco’s voice was soft - his tone unsure of the expectation on him.   
  
“Well, I’ll see you in there.” Maeve disappeared down the vast hallway, her dress flowing behind her. Draco slouched against the wall. His mind was suddenly fuzzy, just this time, he didn’t know what it was. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a reminder - I have created my own character relationships, but I promise to do them justice. (: Hope you're enjoying reading as much as I love writing! (:


	6. Chapter 6

“I’m not trying on another dress!” Maeve pulled the door with rattling force.

 

Ena turned on her heel, and forced a smile towards Narcissa - “It seems to be a bit much for her. It might be best to get some lunch before continuing.” As best as she tried, she felt the grimace slide through her meek smile.

 

“If you think I am going to try on another damn dress, you’re crazy! I won’t try another one! None of this is me - who cares what I wear! No one cares!” Maeve’s voice carried through the dress shop in a gigantic wave of emotion.

 

With the final word, Ena’s facade fell apart. She felt flames engulf her neck, setting her body on fire with anger. “Excuse me for a moment.” Ena left her handbag in her vacant chair, striding confidently towards the door. She had raised this daughter for twenty five years, and at the final moment, she would not tolerate disrespect.

 

Ena jerked the door open - her face revealing little about her current emotional state. “What in Merlin’s name do you think you are doing?” She spat out as she closed the door behind her.

 

Maeve’s face twisted into disgust - folding her arms and turning her body away from her mother. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

 

“Bloody hell. You know exactly what I am talking about. Don’t turn away from me, you ungrateful little girl.” Ena grabbed Maeve’s upper arm and pulled her out of her isolated stance. “This is your future. This is it. There is nothing after this, yet you are choosing to be ungrateful and rebellious. I won’t have it. Narcissa is here, listening to every word you say and watching every action you do. Don’t you think about how your attitude reflects on your family? Don’t you think at all?” Ena’s hands dug into Maeve’s upper arms - her grip holding her daughter steady in front of her.

 

“You pull yourself together. I won’t have you ruining this for your father or our family.” Ena smoothed her dress as she took a deep, cleansing breath. “Maeve, your father is counting on you. Do you know how long this has been discussed? How long this has been a subject of conversation? You have been destined for Draco since you were a girl. This is your duty.” Ena stood adjacent to her daughter - her eyes twinkling with love for so many things.

 

“I don’t care about my duty! I don’t care about a wife!” The words tumbled out without hesitation and instantly, she felt the familiar sting on her cheek delivered from her mother’s right hand.

 

“Listen to me,” Ena’s fingers gripping Maeve’s cheeks tightly, “This is your only duty - the single act that you can do for your family. Do you know how disappointing it was to have a daughter when we wanted sons? Maybe, one day, as a wife, you will. Get dressed. We are leaving for lunch. You will return to the dress shop, and find a dress today.” Ena smoothed her skirt once again, and left without another word.

 

She sunk to the ground, her body heaving with sobs. Her cheek stung - more from physical or emotional hurt, she wasn’t sure. Maeve’s shoulders sagged, her head rolling against the wall. The room was full of emotion, and Maeve felt crushed under the weight of the moment. She felt hopeless as the attendant unzipped the gown and helped her dress again.

 

“I know the perfect tea room for lunch. I’ve made reservations for us, and the dress shop will remain open for us, so that we can find you the perfect gown.” Narcissa’s voice was soft, yet unemotional towards the flushed bride.

  
The mothers lead the way towards the busy street; to Maeve, it felt like a death march. 


	7. Chapter 7

The room buzzed with intensity. Draco buzzed with fire whiskey as he hid himself in the corner of the vast ballroom.

 

Funny, it was his engagement party; but, he felt more content lingering in the shadows.

 

“How dare you leave me out there by myself. Fuck you, Malfoy.” Her tone did little to hide her annoyance. “Found my hiding place, did you? Well, scoot off before they come and take us both back out there.” Draco waved his glass towards the ballroom that was filled with more people than he cared to know or remember.

 

Maeve slid closer to Draco as the crowded came to life with the start of the live band. “First dance for the couple! Draco, Maeve - come dance!” The band leader’s voice boomed through the high ceilings. Whispers erupted, their short term absence causing an uproar. “Let’s go, princess.” Draco downed his drink and slid his hand around Maeve’s, leading them into the lion’s den.

 

The crowd easily parted at the sight of the two - his luminous blonde hair and her fiery red stood out among the monochromatic room. “Let’s dance.” Draco’s voice was a whisper in her ear as he led her to the center of the dance floor, pulling her closely to him.

 

“What do you think you’re doing, Malfoy?” Years of cotillion balls, along with her own coming out ceremony, had her moving gracefully in step with her equally talented partner.

 

“We are giving them a show, so let’s make it a good one. Change your expression. You look annoyed.” His wink made her melt, quieting her protests as they twirled and he dipped, putting on the show the guests desired. The song slowed, and applause rang through room.

 

“Now, I’m going to kiss you.” Draco’s voice was low, his breath hot against her neck. Before Maeve could protest or sass back, she felt his incredibly soft lips mold to her’s. She felt his hand weave through her heavy curls, pulling her closer to him. Draco wasn’t sure if it was the excessive alcohol, her plum dress, or his frustration with his situation that made him taunt the crowd with public displays of affection, but he was on fire for her.

 

“Give the future Malfoys’ another round of applause!” The band leader cried into the microphone as Draco pulled away, leaving Maeve breathless and flushed. Draco nodded towards the crowd, pulling Maeve towards him and off the dance floor. Absent-minded thank yous were shouted as Draco led them through the dissipating crowd. “Where are we going?” Her voice was low, trying to conceal their secret destination. Maeve was overcome with the desire to suddenly be private with him.

 

A wink was his response as he signaled for her to be quiet as they moved upstairs. Maeve knew this wing of the house. The library was just down the hall.

 

“I needed quiet and I brought you with me, woman. So, quiet.” Draco’s voice was playful as he stripped his suit jacket and locked the library door. For the first time in many, Maeve didn’t protest a request, and kept quiet as he moved closer to her. “Thank you for the dance. I believe they feel satisfied.” The humor lingered in his voice.

 

“The dips and the twirls were a bit much. They might have thought that we were putting on too much of a show.” Maeve giggled, pushing way wards curls away from her face. “Oh, but that was the highlight.” Draco pulled her close again, dipping her low as she erupted into giggles. “Let me up! You’re ridiculous!” Her voice was pleading as she wiggled in his arms. “Most women would kill to be this close to me.” His arm pulling her closer - her soft curves molded into his muscular frame.

 

“I’m sure they would, but I’m not most.” Maeve pulled back, but held fast by Draco’s strong grasp. “I’ve noticed.” They stopped swaying as he bent down, capturing her lips with his. She moaned in his mouth as his hand grabbed her hair, pulling her into him. His tongue expertly massaged her’s as his hand slid down her side, worshipping her small waist line.

 

They didn’t hear the lock turn silently, commanded by magic. They hadn’t heard the gasp of surprise from Narcissa’s voice. They hadn’t seen her blush and wipe away tears of love as she shut and lock the door once more.

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

Draco felt himself sigh as Maeve pulled away - her cheeks flushed pink. Draco felt intoxicated with her taste. Her lips were swollen, exaggerating her pout, her eyes hooded with lust as she backed away. “We - we - we can’t be doing this.” She stumbled over the words as she backed away from Draco. “We can do whatever we want. We’re engaged.” His voice was matter of fact as he closed the gap once more between them, pulling her back into his arms.

 

Once again, Maeve didn’t protest. She took any chance to rebel against anyone’s request, but with Draco, she felt a primal need to follow his directions and please him. She couldn’t explain it. She desired to obey him. This, alone, was an overwhelming thought for her.

 

“You’re thinking. When you think, you bite right here.” His finger traced the corner of her mouth, the pad of his thumb brushing over her full bottom lip. He captured her lips once more, gently nipping her bottom lip, something he had the strange urge to do for most of the night. “Draco, we can’t.” This time her voice was a little more assertive, a little less hazy as she twisted in his arms.

 

Somewhere between their kisses, Draco had started to sober up and now, as she told him to stop, was the push over the edge. Letting her go, he straightened his tie and backed away. “Why do you want me to stop? I have never heard that phrase before.” His hands making air quotes around the word phrase, emphasizing his confusion.

 

Maeve let her gaze fall to the floor. Sex and intimacy were new to her. Sure, she had kissed boys - on dares or a forbidden moment at a dance between schools at the Tri Wizarding Tournament; but, beyond a handful of moments, that world was unexplored to her. Her virtue was protected by a family, the family. Her thoughts filled with hushed conversations with her mother about virginity and sex, all meant for your husband. The constant forbiddenness of it all overwhelmed Maeve, smothered her under a blanket of anxiety.

 

“You’re thinking again.” His voice was monotone, peaked with mild curiosity.

 

Maeve shuffled her weight and folded her arms, the ability to speak seemed to escape her as she shrugged her shoulders. Draco’s gaze never left her, but for once, he read her expression and got the message loud and clear. “You’re a virgin, aren’t you? Why didn’t that occur to me? That would make sense - old school family, old school values, and you are the only girl in the family. Your virginity would and is worth a lot of money.” His smile was calming as he told her exactly what her thoughts were saying.

 

“Are you upset?” The question came out before Maeve had a chance to censor herself.

 

The absurd question was accepted with a hearty laugh that made Draco lean forward, grabbing his stomach for effect. “Upset? Hardly. I prefer my wife to be a virgin. Everything will belong to me.” His attitude was playful, but his gaze was full of lust and Maeve felt that familiar feeling pool deep in her belly.

 

The knock at the door broke the tension - the passionate haze evaporating from the air almost instantly. “Your mother has sent me looking for you. She is starting to worry.” Lucius’s no nonsense tone had Maeve walking out before Draco even made a single movement. Smiling warmly at Lucius, Maeve threw a sideways glance at Draco and went to return to the party.

 

“What do you think you are doing?” Lucius’s voice was mild, a possible hint of humor hidden beneath an innocent question, as he stood in front of his son. “That girl is a virgin. Don’t spoil her before your wedding, Draco. No one wants to have all their fun at once.” Lucius smiled playfully, a rare moment.

 

“I would do no such thing. All I wanted was an intimate moment. Those are easy to come by at large parties, no one ever missed us.” Draco muttered, breathless with laughter.

 

“Ah, I remember many an intimate moment before my marriage to your mother.” Lucius’s eyes softened at the thought of a young Narcissa. “That may be why her wedding dress had to be let out on our wedding day, so that you could attend too.” Lucius stared intently at his son, waiting for the punchline to take effect.

 

“Are you kidding me? You and Mother? I was, before the wedding? That’s bloody fucking great.” His eyes widened at the realization that his perfect parents had been far from perfect at one time. “Yes, it’s true - she was almost two months, if I remember correctly. I’m sure people had their questions, and I’m sure they whispered behind our backs, but not a single one dared question us to our face. They knew better.” A gaze of love was replaced by aggression - Lucius remembering his blood thirsty younger years.

 

“Bloody hell. Well, if you must know, she turned me down.” Draco sounded defeated as the men made their journey to rejoin the party. “Son, that’s a good sign. How would you have felt if she had given in tonight? Anything that takes time is worth a full hearted effort. Give her time. I’m sure you’ll be more than convincing.” Lucius’s hand patted his son’s shoulder, a show of love - the closest Draco would get to a hug from his domineering father.

 

\---

 

“The article is truly lovely. You should read it.” Narcissa slid the paper into Lucius’s outstretched hand. “Do you think they will learn to love each other?”

 

Lucius gazed over the paper, “I think that has already started. I found them in the library last night together in a very compromising position.” Lucius’s smile was playful - the thoughts of a young Narcissa and sneaking into the boathouse clouding his mind.  “You found them too?” Narcissa revealed her secret. “I found them kissing! I was shocked, but I couldn’t bear to interrupt them.”

 

Lucius chuckled - his wife’s soft spot for their only child was shining brighter than the morning light. “She was very embarrassed when I interrupted. Draco, of course, was smug.  She resisted him and I think he was stunned. There have been very few times that anyone, especially a woman, has said no to Draco.” Lucius covered Narcissa’s hand lovingly as her mouth fell in shock. “Good for her! I can’t believe he did that! Well, I can believe he did, but oh for Merlin’s sake! Can’t he keep it in his pants for a few more weeks? He’s his father’s son that is for sure!” Narcissa’s voice rose with frustration. Lucius stifled his laughter - his wife’s anger was dramatic, but well placed. Draco had become a womanizer at the age of thirteen and never slowed down.

  
“I’m glad she said no. He needs that in his life. She’s a good match for him. I saw her challenge her mother in the dress shop. She will give our Draco a run for his money.” Narcissa’s eyes narrowed. She rarely wanted Draco to face resistance, but being married to a head strong woman would shape him into a better leader, a better boss. Being the leader of the family started with leading your own family first. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is something to be said that my time is loosely constructed, and doesn't have true relevance until after their marriage, so if you're trying to keep track of when each exact moment happens, it might be difficult, because I have intentionally left out pieces for specific reasons. (: 
> 
> Thanks, y'all for reading and loving my story! Please leave feedback + kudos if you like it or even if you don't! I am always looking to improve!

His boots crushed the glass already shattered on the floor. “Amycus! I know you’re here! Where the fuck is my money?” Draco’s forearm ran along the bar, smashing glasses to the floor - the sound echoing through the silent room.

 

“I know you’re here.” Draco’s voice was suddenly calm - the hunt had begun.

 

“Draco, find him and kill him. We don’t have time to be smashing bloody bottles.” Goyle’s voice was coated in humor as he kicked a chair against the wall and watched the wood splinter.

 

Draco’s hunt was short lived. “Hiding in the store room? So clique. Where’s my money?” His tone was eerily calm once more, the act lingering heavy in the room. “I had it. I swear. Then, I…” Amycus’s voice trembled as he cowered against the wall.

 

“Then you drank it away. Typical story, Amycus, typical story. You’ve got to be more creative.” Goyle laughed, shaking his head at the overused excuse. “Draco, we’ve got to wrap this up. The meeting starts soon. Kill him and get it over with.”

 

“Kill me? You can’t! Draco, I took care of you as a boy. Draco, please. I beg for mercy.” Amycus scrambled to his knees crawling towards Draco, his hands clasped in front of him. “Mercy? You want mercy? You waste my time and my money. Amycus, dead men don’t pay, but they do keep to themselves. I know you sold the potion to Dolohov. Do you think I’m stupid?” Draco pressed his wand into Amycus’s temple - Amycus grimacing in pain.

 

“No, no, you’re not stupid. I am stupid. It was a mistake. I’m sorry.” The apologies spilled out.

 

“Sorry brings me no money or potions. Avada Kedavra.” Green light flashed through Amycus’s body, splaying him lifeless on the stone floor. Draco’s boot pushed his head around. “He used to stay at the Manor, doing odds and ends - such a shame that it had to end like this.” His tone was indifferent - the tender memories a fleeting thought of a boy who was oblivious to his duties as a man.

Goyle and Draco left the body, apparating to the Manor without another word.

 

\---

Maeve absentmindedly stirred her tea, barely coherent of the constant stream of wedding discussions that were taking place around her. Her wedding was less than two weeks away; surely, the preparations were over.

 

Willing herself back into the conversation, Maeve listened as Narcissa described the floral arrangements for the centerpieces. Nodded and echoing approval seemed socially appropriate, but her thoughts were far from lilies and orchids - her thoughts, lately, revolved around Draco. The night in the library was burned in her memory as their single most intimate moment. Remembering his lips on hers and his hands caressing her body caused her body to flush.

 

“Maeve, are you all right?” Ena’s voice was coated in motherly concern, “Would you like something else to drink?” She waved a house elf around with a tray. “No, Mom. I’m fine.” Her smile was demure as she accepted a cup of tea from an eager house elf anyways.

 

Narcissa giggled, “I recognize that smile, Ena. We have all been in love once.” Ena’s face beamed with pride as she sipped her tea.

 

“I just had the most wonderful idea! Maeve, why don’t you and Draco go to get gifts for the wedding attendants? I was going to do it, but you and Draco need time together. The final weeks are always the busiest.” Narcissa nodded at Maeve, already anticipating her agreement. Maeve’s first instinct was to look at her mother for permission. A lifetime of limits had ill-prepared her for independent life.

 

“Why don’t you go ask him? He’s in his father’s study. Go on now.” Narcissa, sensing hesitation, waved her towards the stairs.

 

Maeve hesitated, watching anxiously as the mothers waved her upstairs. Maeve had been in Lucius’s study once, and it was rather intimidating. He was rather intimidating, with his long blonde hair and empty gaze. Maeve took a deep breath and opened the door to a full study buzzing with conversation.

 

“Oh excuse me, I was looking for Draco.” Maeve’s charm was soft spoken as she addressed the room.

 

“Maeve, what are you doing here?” Draco instantly stood and walked towards her, cutting her off from the rest of the room. For some reason, he felt oddly protective of her in the room full of his associates. He felt the need to shield her from wayward glances and whispers.

 

“Oh, are you busy? I can come back.” Apprehension edge into her voice as she looked around at the darkly dressed men. Draco’s hand brushed her cheek, “It’s okay. They can wait. What’s up?” He wanted to make her feel comfortable, make her feel safe - he had never had this desire before, but something about her intoxicated him.

 

“Well, your mom wants us to get gifts for the wedding attendants and I hoped you go with me.” She batted her eyelashes at her request. “Please. I can’t spend another afternoon with our mothers. I can’t.” She moved closer to him, whispering her plea. Draco laughed, because he knew how driven Narcissa could be when planning an event, and every other event would pale in comparison to her own son’s wedding. He had a sudden pang of guilt for leaving Maeve alone with, what was at face value, a duo of vicious wolves with a singular goal of throwing the chart topping event of the wizarding community.

 

“Okay. Let’s go.” Draco didn’t hesitate. It felt right saying yes to her. It felt right to wave off the cat calls, hoots, and hollers as he exited holding Maeve’s hand. It felt right when Lucius nodded in approval as he closed the door behind them.

 

For some reason, it all felt right.  

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

“Well, what were you thinking?” Draco watched Diagon Alley’s crowds shuffle and bustle past shops and street venders. “Um, well, I’ve only ever been to the robes shop here, so I don’t know really know where to go. I was thinking Apothecary for my attendants. I don’t know them that well, and everyone loves to smell good.” Maeve’s smile was goofy as she threaded her fingers through Draco’s. She felt secure with him despite the unnerving crowds. 

Draco nodded, leading them through towards the Apothecary shop. Holding Maeve’s hand produced a weird sensation for him. He never held hands, but yet here he was, traipsing around Diagon Alley, holding hands with a girl. The scents were overwhelming as they entered the small shop. “You said you don’t know your attendants well - why? I thought girls grew up dreaming of their wedding and planning with friends.” Draco’s hands mindlessly picked up packages offering them to Maeve who smelled each willingly. 

“Oh, I am sure that’s the case if you’re not a Ryan. I wasn’t allowed many friends, Draco, and the ones I have or had, I should say, were only looking to further themselves or their own families.” Her nonchalant attitude surprised him. He had envisioned her as a spoiled girl whose every need was catered to, but every time they were together, a new layer was revealed, leaving him sure that he really didn’t know that much about her at all. 

“So, if you don’t know them that well, why get them a gift?” He offered a sweet smelling lotion that was met with a smile of approval. 

“Because our mothers said too.” Her giggle was becoming a favorite sound. “I mean, it’s proper. I could really careless about all of it - the gifts, the wedding, the invitations; but, my opinion doesn’t matter.” Maeve selected five of the same scent and moved towards the sales desk. “Lavish, obnoxious parties aren’t my style; but, considering what is on the line for both our families…” Her voice trailed off. The unspoken purpose of marriage lingered heavy in the air. Neither willing to admit their union had been forced. 

“Fresh air!” Draco’s breathing was exaggerating, eliciting another giggle from Maeve. Yes, her giggle was his new favorite sound. “I didn’t realize how horrid the smells were mixed all together.” Maeve faked a cough as she linked hands with Draco once more. “What do you want for your attendants? Do you know them?” Maeve rubbed her thumb against his knuckles as they walked through the crowds, window shopping for inspiration. 

“Yeah, we’ve been friends almost our entire lives. It is different for me, being a boy. I was allowed out till all hours of the night with almost anyone.” Draco realized that being a Malfoy and being a man allowed him more luxuries than most, especially Maeve, a woman who was simply a pawn in a man’s game. 

“There’s a store down this way that might have something of interest. Stay close.” Draco tightened his grip on her hand as he led her down Knockturn Alley. Maeve absorb the instantly darker atmosphere - shadows lingered in doorways, hushed conversations lulled, and faces seemed unwelcoming. 

Draco’s presence cleared the sidewalk. The sea was parted and he and Maeve walked right into Borgin & Burkes without a single interruption. He, again, had the unnatural need to protect her. If he was honest with himself, Maeve’s presence in his life had set him off balance. He thought about her sometimes during the day - he had never thought about a woman. He wanted to protect her. He wanted to learn about her, which was most surprising. 

“This place is creepy, Draco.” Maeve’s soft whisper was comforted by a smile. “This is one of my favorite stores. Let’s look around. Don’t touch anything without asking.” His voice was cool, pulling Maeve through the winding cases of oddities and dark goods. 

“Oh, Mr. Malfoy - so good to see you! How is your mother and father? I got the invitation to the wedding - congratulations, my boy.” The elderly wizard stood, shaking Draco’s hand warmly. “This must be Ms. Ryan. A pleasure.” Mr. Borgin acknowledge Maeve, who pressed her body into Draco, feeling out of place. 

Draco wrapped his arm around Maeve, an instinct he didn’t realize he had. “I’m looking for gifts for my attendants - five of them. Do you have anything that would interest us?” An acknowledgement passed through Draco’s smile to Mr. Borgin - an indication of the types of items that Draco and his family had been interested in for years. 

“Ah, I have just the thing - they came in yesterday. Let me get them.” The elderly man shuffled towards the back room, leaving Draco and Maeve standing in the dark and dusty sales room. 

“Draco. This place is awful. How can you come here?” Maeve’s finger ran across the counter, picking up a coat of dust. Draco laughed at her critical eye, and instantly wondered what she would think of his house. “I never said it was the cleanest place. They just carry unusual items that I happen to find interesting.” He shrugged his shoulders. “After this, would you like to see my, our, house?” The invitation slipped out before Draco could censor himself. 

“Oh, Draco, I would love that!” Maeve hugged him. Her soft body fit perfectly against his tall, lean frame. 

“Here you go.” Mr. Borgin returned, smiling at the embraced couple. “Five crystal skulls with an emotion charm. The skulls fills with colored smoke resembling the mood of the room.” The skulls filled with soft red smoke as Maeve and Draco stared intently at the peculiar objects. “Ah, red - no surprise there. The feeling of love is in the room.” Mr. Borgin chuckled at the not so obvious feelings between Draco and Maeve. 

“I’ll take them. Wrap them up.” Draco’s voice was firm. The skulls were unique, and perfect for his friends. He, however, did not want his emotions displayed on his desk like a badge. 

\---  
“I am so glad to be out of there. That whole place is weird. I don’t know how you go there freely.” Maeve shook off the creepy feeling from Knockturn Alley as they reemerged onto the busy thoroughfare of Diagon Alley. “Good. I am glad you feel that way. You are not to go there without me or someone else. Do you understand?” He grabbed Maeve’s hand instinctively as they moved towards the apparation point. 

“Oh, yes, sir.” Maeve’s voice was mocking, barely holding in a giggle as Draco brought them both to their future home.


	11. Chapter 11

Draco’s home was modest in comparison to his parents’ and was intentionally chosen so. His style was far from the ostentatious wealth that Narcissa and Lucius were famous for. Draco’s townhouse was simple and sparsely furnished - a reflection of himself.

“What do you think?” Draco waved his around the open layout of the first floor. “The bedrooms are on the second floor, along with more bathrooms.”

 

Maeve’s hand trailed along the rustic wainscoting that lined the walls. The windows were large and the room was painted in the day’s fading light. “It’s very pretty, very masculine.” The dark stained floors, rustic wainscoting, and sparse furnishings screamed bachelor. “I hope you know I am going to change this. If I have to give up my family, my house, and my country for this marriage, then I am going to take over this house.” Maeve gestured to the room. “It’s only fair.” Maeve’s voice was edgy, prepared to force herself into his pre-engagement life.

 

“Okay.” Draco’s smile was woven with mischievous intentions. “A woman’s touch would be nice in such a dark and dreary place.” He reached for her hand, pulling her into a tight embrace. The thought that he hadn’t just meant in her touch in his house took his breath away. “Stop it! You’re smothering me!” Maeve struggled against his hard arms, breathless with giggles as he held her close. His lips trailed her cheek, nipping softly at her jawline - Maeve melting into his arms.

 

A low sigh escaped her lips as he sucked and bit the tender place under her ear. After only a few stolen make out sessions, Draco had memorized her sweet spots, using them to his advantage every time. Between Draco’s duty to the family and their mothers’ constant babysitting her, their alone moments were few and far between.

 

Mave’s hands weaved through his soft waves, pulling him closer to her as her mouth enveloped his, a moan escaping her as she felt his tongue massage her’s. Every moment they were together, she felt more entitled to his body, more entitled to the pleasure he offered her through his expert touches.

 

“Come.” He mumbled into her ear - pulling her up the stairs towards the master bedroom. “Do you like this too?” His voice was soft, careful to maintain the sweet tone of the moment. Maeve’s eyes scanned the large master with vaulted ceilings and airy feel. “I think it’s masculine too.” Maeve let her curls hang in her face as she smiled. “I will be changing it too. Sorry to say.” She moved closer to the ornate four poster bed - the posts carved with rich serpents whose tails wrapped around the posts.

 

“Dragons.” Draco moved right behind her. His close proximity catching her breath in her chest. “Of course, Draco means dragon.” Maeve turned to face him. She closed her eyes, letting herself surrender to his soft trace of her neck. “I won’t be sleeping in ruffles.” He edge closer to her, letting her tumble to the mattress as he crawled over her, his strong arms framing her. Draco dipped his head, resuming his attack of her neck. Her hands snaked under his shirt, rubbing his chest as he slid a hand over her collarbone down her chest.

 

A few weeks ago, Draco had finally touched her breasts. Her lack of experience was exhilarating and refreshing. He could barely remember a time when a woman’s body excited him, but with her, she made him drunk, and he couldn’t seem to stay away.

 

“Sit up.” The words dropped into the air that was heavy with lust. Maeve obeyed without a word, pulling the lace trimmed shirt over her head, casting it aside with her reservations. Draco’s hands instantly slid over her breasts, massaging her creamy skin through the satin. Maeve’s hips pressed against his as Draco’s hands slid over her exposed skin, igniting her. His lips smiled against her skin - every time, she got more bold, more willing to exchange her virtue for carnal pleasure.

 

His fingers toyed with her waistband, testing her weakened self control. Her eyes were glazed as she lifted her hips, allowing him to slide her skirt off her hips, casting aside her last reservation. “Please.” Her hips swayed in front of him, beginning for him to touch more than he ever had before. Draco dipped his head, dragging his bottom teeth along her full bottom lip as a finger slid into her heat. “Oh god.” Maeve’s mouth fell open as Draco slid his single digit in and out in a weakening rhythm. Draco hovered over her, watching her body come apart from his singular touch.

 

“Ahem. Mister Draco. Your father requests your presence.” Dobby’s voice was deafening in the quiet room, freezing Maeve against his hand. “Are you fucking kidding me? Right now?” The irritation clear.

 

“Yes, right away, sir. Right away.” Dobby’s voice was soft as he disappeared with a crack.

 

Draco slid coated finger into his mouth, licking Maeve off as she watched through big eyes, her cheeks flushing crimson. “My new favorite flavor.” Draco’s smile was lazy as he passed her clothing pieces from around the room.

  
Minutes later, they were hand in hand, ready to apparate. Draco couldn’t help but notice that she stood a little closer each time they touched.


	12. 12

The weight of the diamond ring seem palpable tonight. Her thumb twisted the platinum band round and round as she listened to her eldest brother spill snippets of her life onto the crowd at the final party she would attend as a Ryan. 

“Cheers to the happy couple!” Lorcan raised his glass as he gestured towards the couple. All faces turned towards Maeve and Draco, seated in the middle of the long dinner table, as they raised their glasses in unison. 

“Here, here!” Fergus’s voice was heard over others as glasses clinked and congratulations muttered. “Maeve, dear, are you okay? You’ve barely touched your food.” Ena’s voice was slurred, but motherly - a tone that Maeve was all too familiar with. 

“I’m fine, Mother. I’m just nervous.” Maeve searched the crowd for Draco. He said he would be back in twenty minutes - she was sure it had been at least a half hour. Their rehearsal dinner was the calm before the storm, yet Maeve still felt overwhelmed - her final day of freedom was spent being reminded her life still did not belong to her. 

“Oh, don’t be nervous, dear - tomorrow, all your dreams would come true.” Ena’s pat was indifferent - the alcohol dulling her senses. Maeve felt her eyes roll - her mother’s sentiment was far from endearing. 

“Don’t roll your eyes at your mother. It’s unbecoming.” His voice was distinct despite the hum of the room. 

Maeve’s gaze fell to the floor - years of fear overcoming her. 

“Yes, sir.” The words fell out of her mouth. “I know you must have some reservation, but your participation is not voluntary - this is your job, and if you can’t do the job, you will be replaced.” If overheard, no one would understand the promise made to Maeve - only she realized her father meant a more permanent arrangement could occur. 

“Draco’s actions are not uncommon. Don’t sacrifice the livelihood of your family for some foolish inclination of love.” Her father’s eyes were cold as he moved back into the crowd. Tears threatened to send trails of mascara in their wake. Even after years of torment, her father left emotional devastation in his wake. 

The room was coated in a whiskey filled stupor and Maeve felt the crowd closing in. Her heart wished for Draco - for him to cover her in his heavy arms and keep her safe. Glancing quickly at the exits, she knew her presence would be missed within minutes, but it was a risk she was willing to take. 

Moving through the crowd undetected was impossible, and her escape was delayed by well-wishers and advice givers who felt they knew the secret to a happy marriage. Minus her plus one, Maeve was victim to the assault alone, and it left her dizzy and flush. 

“Where are you going? I was looking for you.” Draco’s grip was firm on her wrist as she darted towards the patio. “Draco.” Her voice was breathless as she was clung to him. The floodgate opened and tears streamed down her face. His dress shirt was soaked as she buried her head against him. “Maeve, what’s wrong? What happened?” Draco led her outside to the patio - the stars twinkling above them. 

Minutes passed as she stayed wrapped in his arms and their party continued without them. 

“Where were you?” Maeve pulled back - her tone serious. “Why did you leave our engagement party?” 

Draco was stunned - she continued to surprise him, and he felt he had much to learn about his future wife. “I had some business I had to take care.” This singular moment could define his marriage and the foundation of his relationship with Maeve. Everything up until this point had been heart eyes and infatuation, and this was the moment that defined the true roles. 

Draco had grown up in a household were Lucius’s movements and whereabouts were never up for discussion or questioning, and Draco suspected Maeve grew up in the same situation. The crossroads had been reached, and Draco saw no other choice. 

“I was dealing with business.” His body straightened. His tone hardened. Maeve noticed the subtle changes, and without fail, met his match. “I didn’t ask you to repeat your answer. I asked why did you leave, and ‘business’ is not the answer. Try again, please.” She was closer to him - closing proximity encouraged the truth - rule number seventy nine of growing up in the Ryan household. 

This was an unanticipated bump in the road, but in hindsight, Draco should have anticipated that his fiery fiance would not accept the traditional answer. “Draco, I watched my whole life as my mother turned a blind eye to my father’s ‘business’, but I won’t. We have to be honest with each other. I have to trust you. I am giving up my life for you. You are becoming my life. I can’t start like this.” Her voice did not waver, and she did not shed a tear. Her courage and character were gleaning through and Draco was left speechless. 

Again, another crossroads presented itself, accompanied with the realization that the traditional path may not always be the path for them to follow. Her eyes bored holes into him, as if she could see the wheels turning in his head. “Okay, I was shaking down some of our competition. We’re having problems expanding our brothel, and I needed to make a statement before others started getting the wrong idea.” The path was chosen. 

Maeve bit her lip - an indication of deep thought. She had much to learn about her future husband, because at every new turn, he was leaving her in the dust with his actions. 

“Where have you two been? It’s almost over! Come in for the final speech!” Narcissa’s stinging tone left them both unable to speak as she dragged them back into the sea of well-wishers. 

“As we prepare for tomorrow, we want to wish Maeve and Draco all the happiness in the world, and tomorrow, the two most powerful wizarding families will be joined for eternity.” Lucius raised his glass as the crowd cheered for the couple. 

 

The receiving line was long, and the envelope bag was heavy with seeds of prosperity for the future couple. Their hands were coated in a glistening layer of sweat as they said goodbye to the last guest. “What a party!” Ena gurgled as she leaned against Fergus’s stout body. 

The house elves began the tedious task of cleaning up from the engagement party, and setting up for the wedding as the guests of honor gathered in the foyer. “Well, say your goodnights, and it’s off to bed.” Narcissa climbed the stairs followed by the other parents - all keeping a watchful eye to make sure Draco did not take off with the prize before it was won. 

Maeve leaned into his body - aftershave and sweat covering her senses and calming her instantly. “Where are you going?” She whispered, testing the waters lightly this time. “I am going home to shower and sleep. I need to look refreshed for my bride tomorrow. I am hoping she thinks I’m worth it.” His lips kissed her forehead as he gave away more information with each question she asked. 

“Come on, girl.” Fergus was brash as he ushered his bargaining chip up the stairs. 

“Until tomorrow…” With that, Draco was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience + kind words! I hope you enjoy - chapter 13, lucky 13, is the wedding of the century! Dress your best + see you there! 
> 
> xo, Lucy


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